


wicked game

by lucigucci



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Deal with a Devil, Devil!Asra, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Master/Pet, POV First Person, devil au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25945819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucigucci/pseuds/lucigucci
Summary: (wicked game by widowspeak)To whomsoever finds this,My name is Doctor Julian Devorak, sometimes known as Ilya, previously a citizen of Nevivon and Vesuvia. I was a practicing physician working at the Vesuvian palace for Her Majesty Nadia Satrinava under the supervision of Doctor Valdemar.If you are reading this, I may already be worse than dead.I do not have much time left. I have so many apologies to make and of course I cannot fit them all into one letter in a timely manner. Rather, I feel compelled to detail how I ended up in this situation, to ease my family’s minds and to serve as a cautionary tale to any others who may share the same fate. I cannot express how dangerous it is for you to try to come find me.
Relationships: Asra/Julian Devorak
Kudos: 24





	wicked game

To whomsoever finds this,

My name is Doctor Julian Devorak, sometimes known as Ilya, previously a citizen of Nevivon and Vesuvia. I was a practicing physician working at the Vesuvian palace for Her Majesty Nadia Satrinava under the supervision of Doctor Valdemar.

If you are reading this, I may already be worse than dead.

As my final wish, I must implore you to deliver this message to at least one of the following people, all of whom may be found in the kingdom of Vesuvia:

Pasha (goes by Portia) Devorak  
Mazelinka (previously known as Dread Pirate Mazelinka)  
Doctor Nazali Satrinava  
Countess Nadia Satrinava  
Lucio Morgasson  
Muriel (previously known as Scourge of the South)

I do not have much time left. I have so many apologies to make and of course I cannot fit them all into one letter in a timely manner. Rather, I feel compelled to detail how I ended up in this situation, to ease my family’s minds and to serve as a cautionary tale to any others who may share the same fate. I cannot express how dangerous it is for you to try to come find me. 

Pasha, if you in particular are reading this, I forbid you from trying to make the journey to see me, and in my letter, I will give no specifics as to how to reach me. You are a brave and strong young woman but this is a fight I cannot allow you to begin.

You probably recall the last time we saw each other. (I think about it almost every day, Pasha. I miss you dearly.) With the help of the High Priestess, we were able to travel to the Devil’s realm. I had only visited the Devil’s realm once before, but even so, I could not recognize the place this time. Plants of all shapes and smells grow here-- twisting vines, gargantuan trees, multitudes of flowers, all winding together in a singular vast organism. The realm _breathes_ as one creature. Now that I have spent more time here, I am certain that this dimension is a scientific marvel unlike anything ours has to offer. If only I could come back I would conduct countless experiments with you.

And his palace, Pasha, his palace is even bigger than we thought! It sprawls and spreads across the land beyond my comprehension. From the outside it must be no larger than the palace of Vesuvia where we worked all those years, but inside? Inside it is a kingdom in and of itself. At first I thought my mind was playing tricks on me but I am certain now. It is solid and real and impossible and inescapable. 

You cannot come back the same way, through the Priestess’ realm. He has closed it off. He has isolated himself from the rest of the arcana-- he thinks he is different, if not superior, not unlike the previous Devil. The more I stay with him, the more I think it might be true.

Time flows differently here and my memories slip more and more from my grasp each day. I seem to recall that we arrived in the Devil’s realm with the intent to bargain with him, as so many mortals do. We wanted him to return to his human form and come back to Vesuvia to assist us with the matters at hand. Nadia needed him for the rebuilding of the South End, you needed him as a teacher, and I needed him… 

Needed him as I do now. As I always have.

He expected our coming. He expects everything. You did all the talking since you know I’ve always been horrible with speaking aloud. And the look in your eyes, Pasha, as you spoke, the hopeful shine on your face gave me the most joy I felt in years. I am so proud of you. I was never around when you needed me and you have grown up so powerful nonetheless. Even he must have been impressed. Even he was nothing compared to you, Pasha.

He must have known he couldn’t break you. That was why he summoned the guards to the throne room-- he was scared of you. The only reason I didn’t try to fight them when they took you away was because he promised no harm would come to you, that you would be escorted out of the palace, and I have learned that he cannot lie.

I was so foolishly optimistic at that moment. I thought he wanted to speak with me in private because of our history together-- since I had known him as a human, I knew his human name, and I knew his human heart. At least, I thought I did.

But when you left the throne room, I knew from the look in his eyes that he didn’t plan to bargain with me. He relaxed in his throne, unfurling himself like a cat in the sun, watching my every move and smiling all the while. When I spoke his mortal name he _glowed_.

He beckoned me to come closer, which I didn’t. “What do you want?” I demanded, trying to keep my voice level to hide my emotion. “Why did you send Pasha away?”

“You haven’t spoken a word to me all day,” he said. “I at least deserve a hello, don’t I?”

I bit my lip to keep my retort back. Before we left, the Countess had given us instructions on how to deal with the Devil, and rule number one was to say as little to him as possible.

He loped, limb by limb, out of his seat, upright into a standing position, to approach me out from the shadows.

He has retained his human appearance despite his transformation. I should have known I was done for as soon as I realized this fact. Every inch of him is a work of art crafted by whatever gods still exist in the heavens, and if he wanted to, he could have every mortal being bow to him with just one look from those eyes. On this particular day, I recall he wore bloodred robes that pooled around his heels on the floor and flowed seamlessly around his bronze shoulders. Long ruby earrings glittered from under his snowy shock of hair. When he came into the light, as though a veil was lifted, two obsidian horns came into my view, protruding from the sides of his head and curling like a ram’s.

I don’t know when I sank to my knees. Everything is such a blur. All I know is that I couldn’t help myself. Words had failed me, thoughts had failed me, and so too, it seemed, had my body. “You’re quiet,” he observed, and I could feel his eyes on the crown of my head even though I focused on the tiled floor below. “Are you afraid of me?”

I shook my head.

“Oh. Why not?”

My fists clenched in my lap.

“Ilya,” he reproached, and my damn heart betrayed me and jumped into my throat at the sound of my name, “this is very rude, you know. I’m not going to strike any sort of bargain with a man who won’t do me the courtesy of answering my questions.”

I had no choice. Still refusing to look at him, I muttered, “why did you want to speak with me alone?”

“Ah, there we are.”

“If you touch a hair on her head, I’m taking her back to Vesuvia and you won’t ever get what you want.”

“What I want, Ilya? You haven’t even asked me what I want.” He began to pace around me, taking soft measured steps as though performing a dance I could not understand. “All you and your sister are concerned with is what you want. You do know a bargain has to go both ways, don’t you?” He paused and waited for me to answer, and when I didn’t, he repeated, “don’t you?”

“I know,” I growled.

“I suppose I could come back to Vesuvia,” he mused. “There are many old friends who I would love to visit.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lip curl. “Old enemies who I would love to get even with.”

“Lucio?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

“Yes, of course Lucio, that old goat. He hasn’t come to my realm to strike any bargains with me and this newfound intelligence of his makes me annoyed. Have you seen him since he left the palace?”

I pursed my lips together. Nadia’s warning rang strong in my ears.

He stopped behind me, and with him, my heart stopped too. I knew he was looking right at me. “You haven’t asked what I want from you,” he told me.

“What… do you want?”

“If I am to help the people of Vesuvia, they should help me too. I want complete ownership of the soul of every living mortal in the kingdom.”

At his words, I jumped to my feet and whirled around to snarl at him. “As if that’s a fair trade!”

“I think so,” he replied calmly.

“You can’t just-- people’s lives-- and women and children--” I was fumbling with my words again, but I couldn’t stop, couldn’t keep my frustration in anymore. “And Nadia! Don’t you care-- and Muriel--”

He waited for my voice to die in my throat before responding with an unconcerned smile. “Is that a no, then?”

“Of course it’s a no!”

“Hm. Alright.” He didn’t seem disappointed at all. On the contrary, I swear his grin widened. “Then I suppose you’ll be on your way soon.”

“W-wait!” I exclaimed. “We-- we can negotiate, can’t we?”

I could see each one of his pearly teeth in his smile. His canines looked sharper than I remembered. “We can,” he answered.

“W-we can?”

“We can. Come, Ilya.” He started out of the room, and, flabbergasted, I hastened to follow. This wasn’t going according to plan-- well, the plan went off the rails as soon as he separated us, Pasha. I should have expected him to try to throw us off like this. He knows I’m weak on my own.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“My tea parlor. The throne room is for making deals, you see.” He turned to smile up at me. “The tea room is for intimacy.”

My heart, my goddamn heart, skipped a beat at his words. “Intimacy? I-- I don’t understand. I want to make a deal.”

“Yes, Ilya, of course.” He opened a door to the left and waited for me to enter before following me inside.

True to his word, this room is, in fact, his tea parlor, and not the dungeon / torture chamber I was expecting when I entered. He keeps a plethora of colorful cushions scattered around low tables stationed at the center of the room. The moment he closed the door behind me, a waft of heady incense hit my senses all at once. He escorted me to one of the tables and chuckled when I had to scrunch my limbs into a sitting position. “I think I heard a crack,” he remarked. “When was the last time you stretched?”

I had to smirk too. “Stretched? I stretch the truth almost every day, does that count?”

He laughed and sat down across from me at the table. “Your body, Ilya. You are practically a walking skeleton. Surely Nadia has invited you by now to join her in practicing yoga?”

His comment sparked recognition in me. Nadia had, indeed, suggested I try yoga, and of course she also told me that I should avoid talking to the Devil at all costs. I bowed my head to stare pointedly at the table to keep from giving into temptation.

But you, Pasha, you know I can never resist temptation, especially when said temptation could harm me without hesitation.

Perhaps I was doomed from the moment we stepped foot in the Devil’s realm.

“Ilya? You aren’t giving me the silent treatment again, are you? Hellooo?” A long-nailed finger poked the end of my nose and I recoiled with a gasp. “Ilya, you’re usually so talkative. What’s the matter?”

I couldn’t stifle another smirk. “I can’t say.”

He snickered and, to my surprise, I could feel his breath on my cheek. I hadn’t even noticed how close he had gotten and I didn’t dare to look up to check. “If you’re going to be so quiet,” he said, “I want to show you something.”

I didn’t reply.

“If you want me to show you something very fun, don’t say anything.”

I rolled my eyes. This was so reminiscent of how he acted as a human, it was difficult to keep my guard up around him.

“Perfect! Now, watch.” He reached down to take my left hand in both his own. His skin is so soft, softer than any fabric or fur, and his hands are always so, so gentle. I am certain when I first met him all those years ago, while he still walked Vesuvia as a human being, as my friend, I yearned for his hands more than any other part of him. Now they are trimmed with sharp black nails. But they are still just as perfect.

With one confident talon, he drew a line of blood across my palm, and I winced and yelped. The mark on my throat from my bargain with the last Devil tingled as it does with all wounds.

But it didn’t go away.

Blood continued to gush from my skin, pooling in my palm, dripping onto the plush carpet below. It stung and stung and never stopped to sting. “Does it hurt?” the Devil inquired of me, lowering his face to my hand so I had no choice but to meet his eyes.

“I-- I don’t-- understand,” I managed.

“Your bargain remains intact with my succession of the old monster.” I noticed he refrained from using the title of Devil, and I wondered if he was jealous. “The spell he placed on you is now my spell. This mark,” he said, gesturing at my throat, “controls how quickly your physical wounds heal. You have used it to make yourself immortal.” A cruel smile curled his lips. “But I can use it to hurt you.”

“You have no reason to hurt me,” I whimpered. “D-do you?”

“Just think of it, Ilya. If I were to run you through with a sword, I could heal you back up in a matter of seconds like nothing ever happened. If I were to give you twenty lashes across the back with a whip, I could keep them open and bloody for days on end, and feed you magic to keep you alive.”  
sevendayssevenbeautifuldaysbloodybrokendying  
A pathetic moan bubbled up in the back of my throat. You know my masochistic tendencies better than anyone, Pasha, and you know how hopeless I become at the mere mention of it.

The Devil opened his mouth and pressed the flat of his tongue against my palm, warm against warm, wet against wet, and I swear I almost fainted at the sensation.

When he lifted his lips, he grinned again. “It doesn’t take much for you to speak, does it?”

“O-oh.”

“Now that I have you in a talking mood, there is something I’d like to discuss with you,” he said. Between his phrases, he brought his lips to my skin to drink, and every time, a gasp caught in my throat. “I do miss Vesuvia. But, you see, I cannot abandon my realm. My powers are at their strongest here and I would have to give up part of my magic in your world. Therefore, I would like to compromise. You will tell me all about Vesuvia and I will live through you.”

“I-- I don’t-- but--”

“Yes or no,” he replied patiently.

I swallowed my arousal and continued, “why w-would you want that? Want-- me? And what d-do you want to know?”

With a rush, the stinging on my palm was gone, replaced with fresh new skin and a thin coat of blood mingling with saliva. “When I do go back to Vesuvia, I will return to conquer it,” the Devil explained, as casually as though he were discussing his schedule for a vacation. “I will take the souls of every being for my own power so that I will be corporeal even on the mortal plane. But to do this, I must have inside knowledge about the Countess’ defenses and plans. You have worked alongside her for long enough to understand the inner machinations of her plots. Therefore, you will tell me all that I wish to know about her, along with the rest of the court.”

Common sense crashed around my ears in a tidal wave. (I may be a mess, but I’m a mess with at least an ounce of brain.) “She trusts me!” I barked at him. “I could never do that to her, or to the people of Vesuvia!”

“I’m sure you could draw diagrams of the palace for me, maps and charts to aid me… I’ll have someone else label it, of course, since your handwriting has always been so atrocious…”

“I said no!”

He must have been taken aback by my declaration because he narrowed his eyes at me for the first time that day. An ashamed chill ran up my spine at the sight of it. “How very assertive of you, Ilya,” he replied coolly. “I never took you to be so stubborn so fast.” He extended a finger to hook under my chin. “You are quite the fascinating specimen.”

“Get yourself another rat,” I whispered.

“But I want you.”

“Why?”  
hehurtsmehehurtsmelovesmeloveme  
I should have pushed him away. I should have ran through the palace and tried to find you and leave with you. I should have broken away from his trance.

He kissed me.

My Gods, Pasha, the world fell away from me in that moment. You know I see myself as a grounded individual, but _this_? I swear that I was flying, that he was flying, and I clung to him for dear life as we soared through the air. He sucked the air from my lungs. He tasted like ecstasy and divine retribution. He held me with _those hands_ , Pasha.

I wanted him to take my life.

“Ilya,” he cooed, and his voice made me melt into his arms. He was just as warm as I remembered.

“Asra, please,” I murmured.

“Please what?” He wove his fingers into my hair and tugged me against his chest.  
getawayrunawaystayforever  
“Please,” I breathed, my eyes falling closed and my lips parting, “please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

“Oh, Ilya. You are not dreaming. I am here with you.”

I kissed up his collar, breathing in his perfume, worshipping his presence. “I-- Asra, I--”

“Mm?”  
gutmecrawlinsideofme  
I seized fistfuls of his robe. My hands were shaking and I felt fevered. “Let me stay,” I pleaded. “Let me be yours. I’ll do anything you want, just please, please, please, Asra--”

He silenced me with a kiss on my forehead. “My Ilya,” he crooned.

“Don’t make me go.” I had started crying at some point, and my tears ran in untamed streams down my cheeks. “Asra, I love you, I’ve always loved you, and I’ll never stop loving you!”

“Yes, I know.”

I choked back a sob-- how embarrassing-- and I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him again.   
ibeggedformoreidiedformore  
You must understand me, Pasha, when I tell you that this is not another one of my passing fancies. He is everything to me. He is life and death, the beginning and the end, and no matter how I try, I can’t tear myself from him. If you were there when we met in Vesuvia you would understand. For now, you need to take my word for it, or else my actions might be mad.

Then again I am probably mad due to no fault of his.

The next few minutes are hazy to me but I am certain I know what happened. I have a new mark now over my heart that glows violet like his eyes when he is near me My only explanation is that I agreed to a deal of some sort If only I knew what the contents of that deal were I might be able to reverse my situation. The evidence suggests that I used myself as a bargaining chip since no matter how far I try to stray from the palace I always find myself back at his side as though I never left (I never have understood how magic works)

I am ashamed of what I have told him that is the main purpose of this letter-- to warn you to warn the kingdom of what may com I have given him everything and when my explanations don’t suffice he slithers into my mind and draws his own information from bneath my skin you need to tell Nadia at once and give her my sincerest apologies I know very wel that my hubris may very well have cost milions of people their lives and I regret it every night until he comes to comfort me

he has tried to make m forget Slowly Im afraid it is workng

I cant keep these notes here or I know he will find them and I couldn’t bear it if he snt me away Im bribing one of the servants to deliver this letter to the Hnged Man who I hope will take pity on me and send it into our world

This is Vesuvias lat hope I beg of yu delivr this letter before its too late

\--

“Oh my.”

Julian jumps in his seat, clutching his pounding heart. “A-asra! I-- I didn’t hear--” He scrambles to cover the letter on the desk with his hands. “How long-- how much--”

Asra, who is bent over Julian’s shoulder, smiles and nuzzles his neck. “Pretty Ilya,” he whispers. “Have I neglected you, my darling?”

“No-- n-no, I’m-- just--” Julian fumbles with his words and the stack of papers, which he decides to stuff into his pants pocket.

“Just what? You were writing quite the story. It must be very important.”

Julian attempts a smile that comes out more as a grimace. “N-not at all. I’m sorry for waking you, Asra, you can go back to bed.”

Asra kisses his cheek, then the shell of his ear, and replies, “I won’t go without you. I’m so scared of the dark; I need my Ilya to protect me.”

“I-- I’ll be there in a bit. I’ll just, ah, put this away, and--”

“You have quite the poetic touch. I never knew you were such an eloquent writer.”

Julian freezes. His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “You-- you read it,” he gasps.

“You know I can’t read your handwriting,” Asra teases, sliding an affectionate hand under the collar of Julian’s sleepshirt to stroke his chest. “But… your thoughts were so loud as you wrote, I simply couldn’t ignore it, you see? So I wasn’t _really_ snooping. You aren’t mad, are you?”

Julian shakes his head, just enough, hardly moving at all. “Asra, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t m-mean any of it. I was just-- just confused!” One trembling hand wraps around Asra’s wrist. Julian barely has the strength to lift his hand up to his lips to kiss Asra’s fingers between babbles. “Because I-- love you! You know it, don’t you? And I would kill for you, and die for you, and--”

“Give me the letter.”

Julian furrows his brow, craning his head to try to meet Asra’s reassuring eyes. When he gets no response, he resigns to take the letter from his pocket with his free hand, and offers it up to Asra, who snatches it at once and smooths the papers out.

“I admire your dedication, really, I do, but I’m afraid I don’t see how anyone could read this. We really do need to work on your handwriting.” Asra straightens up and begins to stroll away, and Julian scrambles around in his seat to watch helplessly. “You were going to send this through another realm, yes…? I can make sure it gets to Vesuvia. You shouldn’t trust the Hanged Man.”

“I-- but I--”

“I will give you my word,” Asra adds.

Julian takes a shuddering breath. “W-why-- why would you--”

“Oh, Ilya, do you really think there is any hope left for the people of Vesuvia?” Asra folds the letter with careful talons, then with a flash of light, the paper vanishes. “The letter will reach your sister, just like you intended. I wouldn’t want all your hard work to go to waste. She won’t have to worry about a thing, now that she knows you are safe and happy.”

“I love you,” Julian breathes.

Asra simpers and kisses him, but pulls away before Julian can enfold him in his arms. “Come to bed, pet. Your punishment will begin with the sun.”

Julian nods eagerly, only turning back to blow out the candle on the desk before returning to the security of Asra’s arms.


End file.
